


All For You

by Bahyek, Medikitty



Series: I lost control again, What is love without pain? [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gay Cowboys, Gay Male Character, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bahyek/pseuds/Bahyek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medikitty/pseuds/Medikitty
Summary: John makes the first move. He’s so nervous, but he’s staring at those lips and the moment feels so right so he just leans in. He feels Arthur’s lips brush against his own but before he can even begin to think about it those lips jerk back.“Woah!” Arthur leans back, looking at John wide-eyed.What an idiot he is... Why would he ever think the this was a good idea? That Arthur would reciprocate or even be okay with this? John's expression is a mixture of mortification and despair. He marches away as quickly as he can. He just wants to get away from Arthur, from the way he reacted, from his feelings.“Wait,” He feels a warm hand around his wrist, forcing him to stay back. John bites down all the things he wants to say. About how sorry he is, about how Arthur should just forget about this ever happening, about how—“I didn’t say ‘leave’.”





	1. Sweet divide, A heavy truth...

**“** Wait **,”** He feels a warm hand around his wrist, forcing him to stay back. John bites down all the things he wants to say. About how sorry he is, about how Arthur should just forget about this ever happening, about how— **  
**

 

 **“** I didn’t say  _leave_. **”**  

  
John turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder contritely.  Arthur made a swift effort to lighten the mood as he quipped **“** You just surprised me, that’s all. **”**  
A smirk pulled at his lips, ensuring there was no harm.  Those fine lips.  John turned back around to face him, his eyes shining with a meager glint of hope he really wishes he won’t regret.  

 **“** Now, why don’t we try that again? **”**  
  
The cowboy turned his head away; eyes screwing shut with a huff. Those eyes as green as the plains against a blue sky burned in his mind. The feeling of them never leaving his frame lingered, making the young cowboy swallow hard. Arthur was waiting, and nothing was going to divert his attention away, not with his bullheadedness after nearly drinking half the bottle of whiskey alone they shared. 

 

 **“** I— Dammit Arthur **!”**

 

For a long time, there's a deafening silence between them. The only sounds were the crackling embers of the dying campfire they were huddled around. Heavy breaths of sleep were heard from someone who perhaps drank too much and found bed along the dewy blades of the earth. _Uncle perhaps? —Maybe Sadie?_ Who knew anymore with all the bloodshed the camp endured the past couple months. It was a never-ending nightmare no one knew how to wake up from.

 

The grip on his wrist tightened leaving John feeling defeated, his stomach churning as he dared to finally glance back.

 

“Did you not hear me, boy?”

 

 

 

**“** Arth— yeah. Yeah, Sure. **”** John sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as he returned to the oak log they resided on. The elder remained, his lopsided smirk faltering into his more typical stern expression. He was expecting something. John knew that but couldn't string a coherent sentence to explain himself. Every time his mouth opened to say something, those damned eyes shined against the illuminating campfire in a way that made him stutter; losing any scrap of thought he had. Before he could manage anything that sounded coherent, a calloused hand took hold of his chin with a firm grasp. _Trapped_.

 

 

**“** Goddamn fool is what you are, Marston **”** Arthur griped, that hint of mirth underlying in his hoarse tone. He then had to jerk his head away, stifling the eruption of coughs into his jacketed arm. John flinched slightly to the harsh barks, eyes softening as his embarrassment was washed over with concern, with a need to...what? Help? Everyone knew what was coming, even if the outlaw would conceal it to the best of his abilities. Any effort to be there for him, whether from John himself or any of the camp members was rewarded with an icy shove away. He could feel his heart strain. John was ready to offer the bottle of whiskey to Arthur as meager way to help that wouldn't end in a scolding. Instead, he found himself caught off-guard as chapped lips encased over his own, leaving the young cowboy dumbfounded. His unoccupied hand found its way to Arthurs' leg, nails scraping along the worn denim for stability. It felt like all those swigs of whiskey hit him all at once— _dizzying_ ; all other senses heightening. The feeling of his face overheating and the thudding in his ears were overstimulating. A harsh tug of his chin brought the younger man back as Arthur urged him closer. John obeyed, scooting until their legs touched.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was the outlaw who pulled away, his breathing raspy as another fit of coughs threatened to rupture. _“_ You— you remember what I told you, Johnny boy? After we blew that bridge to hell and back? **”** Arthur's words were slurred, but even in a drunken state, the man could nevertheless carry the tone of intimidation that still sent shivers down Johns' spine. John nodded slowly, leaning over ever so slightly to grab the whiskey bottle. To be honest, Arthur's words have never escaped his mind since that day the outlaw begged him of his final wishes. He took a long swig before he set it back down in front of the fire, dark eyes meeting to lock onto the sage ones. The outlaws grasp loosened from Johns' wrists to reach for the bottle for himself.

 

 

**“** You think I reckoned you to take your family and go for my own health now did you, Johnny boy? I can damn well tell you it wasn't for the sake of your Abigail there. That is for _damn_ sure **.”**

 

All John could do was watch Arthur, doe-eyed, as he gave the younger man a stern nod before taking a large swig of the whiskey. **_W-was this a confession?_**


	2. Drunk on a Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, I'm retouching certain parts coming up....GOMEN its coming real soon!

* * *

 

 

His chest felt like it was ready to _burst_. Here this whole time he was sitting coiled up in a tense anxiety, awaiting a beating of some sort and all for not. Before his brain could even conjure a reaction, his body sprung into action. Grabbing at the leather suspenders, the outlaw wore, John used them as leverage to haul himself up against Arthur until their lips collided. It was a sloppy kiss due to their intoxicated state. Arthur swayed heavily from John's weight, trying to steady himself but it was to no avail as he started leaning backward.

 

With a soft thud, the outlaw landed on his back in the grassy terrain behind the log, his legs still slung over. John had face planted into Arthur's chest, having fallen onto of him. Stifled snickers came from the two men of their awkward predicament, drunkenly attempting to hush one another before someone awoke. A thunderous snore then rustling startled the both of them. The outlaw instinctively ground his nails into the earth while John grabbed fistfuls of Arthur's jacket, face flushed. When the peculiar noise quieted down, the cowboy lifted himself up on his haunches, straddling the man below him as he peeked around. Arthur's eyes took no shame to examine the pleasing sight before him. He had never looked at another man before, well, like _this_. Perhaps with a lass who caught his eyes...but not a man- except for John. _Little Johnny Marston._

Looking at John now, in this very moment, he hated to admit it but he was quite the looker. His waist, thin and slender, his pectorals peeking out from his disheveled partially unbuttoned shirt. Even his hair, as slicked as it was, framed his face and clung just so, as to conceal the chiseled details. It left John with a rather feminine appearance in the vibrant orange glow from the campfire. He was thankful the cowboy was straddling his stomach and not any farther south.

 

**"** Huh...fellers must be out cold whoever it was. I don't see no one **"** John murmured, hushed. 

 

Arthur let out a throaty hum, the suspicious voice sobering him slightly to their situation. They really shouldn't be out in the open like this, in this position. With these _thoughts_ — _feelings_.

 

John looked back down at him with hazy eyes, the embers from the fire revealing a golden hue glinting in those ever-changing hazel pupils. It left Arthur hesitating for a moment to what he was going to say, but instead, he lifted his hands up to the belted waist. Each thumb hooked into the belt loops and tugged, urging the cowboy to ease down closer to him. John complied, hands landing themselves on either side of the outlaws temples. He leaned down to brush his lips along the chapped pair, a silent promise.

 

**"** We uhhh, we ought to lay low and settle somewhere for the night... **"** Arthur grumbled, not sure **what** he had in mind. Let alone _how_ to word it.

 

**"** Lest you want an additional lashing from Abigail or god forbid Bill wakes up **!"**


	3. Don't make me choose

Bringing up Abigail made John's stomach churn uncomfortably. This was  _wrong_ and deep down he knew it.  What he felt for the outlaw was meant to be bound and gagged years ago.  He had no choice— **They** had no choice. It was a common sin to the world, one many would risk their heads for regardless. They grew up never learning of civilizations standards. What they did felt normal— natural for growing up in a small gang with each other glued at the hip.    
  
Abigail seemed like the only way out when the time came.  The only way of stopping something that hadn't even  _started_.  Little did he know, that much like many other things John foolishly fell into, it only made it worse.  She was young and pretty.  After having her own rounds with certain members of the gang to make ends with her previous work;  those eyes, as vibrant as blue sage wanted to settle themselves onto the young cowboy.  As for Arthur?  Well, he was discreetly leaving camp, smitten for that Mary.  It seemed like the right thing at the time.  
  
  
  
They were now Dutch's  _sons... no matter how if they liked it or not._  
  
  
  
**"** Alrighty, **"**  John agreed with a slur to his voice, more to shut out his thoughts than to reply to Arthur.  It took a bit of time for them to maneuver back onto their feet.  They managed to fumble and choke on their sniggering in the process before they managed to get on their feet, more intoxicated than the both had anticipated.  Grabbing John's hand, Arthur dragged them through the dark heading to his tent.  Its location was away from the majority of the slumbering crew, not wanting to not be disturbing the peace with their thoughtless mischief.  As they reached his tent, however, John pressed onwards, towards the stream down below.  
  
**"** I ain't sure nows' the best time for a swimmin' lesson, Johnny boy. **"**  
  
  
  
The cowboy looked back at Arthur with a meager glare before casting a small smirk, **"** I had a thought. **"**  
  
  
  
**"** Well, that's dangerous. **"**  Arthur quipped that was rewarded with a hard shove.  He chuckled giving in and allowing the younger man to pull him along the brush and trees.  
  
  
  
**"** Remember when Ol' Hosea and Dutch would leave us in camp for night fishin'? **"**  
  
A deep chuckle rumbled from Arthur's throat as he shook his head, eyes of true turquoise wandering to their hands that remained locked together, **"** Oh they were  _fishin'_  alright! **"** John chimed into his partners' laughter, the sound so rare to the ears.  He cherished it as he glanced over at Arthur adding, **"** — And then our dumbasses thinking they had some secret spot for big game and snuck after them? **"**  
  
As they reminisced, the two found a large driftwood along their path that trailed the rocky shore of the vast river.  John stopped to take a rest Arthur joining him clumsily and nearly knocking the other over.  Looking out to the water, the moon illuminated the water with sparkling ripples.  It brought back so many memories.  
  
  
_Too many memories_  
  
  
**"**... Or when we started our own night hunting **"** Arthur muttered, lowering his head so the brim of his hat concealed the heat coming to his face.  He rummaged around his belt for his flask, excusing himself as sobering up.  
  
  
John gave a sidelong gaze, a small smile teasing at his mouth to Arthurs nervous antics.    
  
  
"Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took time to roll my thoughts over and especially to listen to the in-game conversations between how the three interact. Im not hatin on Abigail, its just a mere theory from what Ive researched and learned from the game.


	4. Break down these walls and come on in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We ain't kids no more, Arthur."
> 
>  
> 
> "No...that we ain't, Marston. But despite that ya still can't swim, certainly can't draw, and definitely can't think before actin'."
> 
>  
> 
> John propped up a leg, elbow resting on it while he raked a hand through his hair sighing, "Yeah, yeah! Shut up with that already Arthur. What I'm saying is...is that you and I...we ain't just Dutch's boys, we ain't just friends and you damn well know it!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I really love everyone's feedback! Thank you and let us trudge forward! Sorry for the delay on this one, I am actually writing 2 fics that ties to this series.

There was a suffocating quiet jarred between them, neither one of them wanting to shatter the inevitable but knew it had to be done. They made the pact, the confessions, there was no turning back now without their tensions massacring them in the process.   
  
  
  
Arthur took another swig from his battered flask, savoring the burn running down his throat.  The Silence felt like a chokehold.  
  
  
  
**"** We was kids, didn't have a damn clue.  Only wanted to know what the secret was. **"** Arthur mumbled, lowering the flask from his mouth as he began.  John was swift to retaliate, his temper sparked and flared not wanting Arthur to snuff out what he, no— what they have had hidden for too many years.    
  
  
**"** We ain't kids no more, Arthur. **"**  
  
  
  
**"** No... that we ain't, Marston.  But despite that ya still can't swim, certainly can't draw, and definitely can't think before actin'. **"**  
  
  
  
John propped up a leg, elbow resting on it while he raked a hand through his hair sighing, **"** Yeah, yeah!  Shut up with that already Arthur.  What I'm saying is... is that you and I... we ain't  _just_  Dutch's boys, we ain't  _just_  friends and you  _damn_ well know it! **"**  
  
  
**"** You have Abigail, Marston **."**  Arthur tried arguing.  It was a weak argument;  he knew that.  At this point it was a losing battle, his heart pounding in his chest as he grasped to evade Johns words.  
  
  
  
**"** Arthur, please. **"**  John snapped before he snatched the flask out the gunslinger's hand, flinging his head back and finishing it off.  His eyes were sharp as daggers, glistening with determination.  He wasn't going to let the outlaw do this.  Not now.    
  
  
  
**"** You say that every time, there was a time you didn't give a damn!  We play this stupid game and dance around each other like damn fools.  It's a shocker no one at camp knows by now! **"**  
  
  
  
Arthur sighed and gazed longingly at John.  If John only knew—  _No, he knew_.  He refused to acknowledge what Arthur was  _begging_ from him.    
  
  
**"** Marston... I ain't going to be around— I— For Christ's sake. **"**    
  
For once, it was the gunslinger who couldn't gather the right words.  Nothing fit quite the way he wanted.  He wanted to go knowing John had a place, had a home, was safe.  Was loved.  John needed that family, even if it wasn't the most picture-perfect one.

 He's going to need it if Arthurs doubts prove themselves true with the camp, their family.    
  
  
  
With a deflated sigh he reached over, wrapping his hand to the back of John's neck.  With a jerk of his arm, jolting the cowboys face over to him, Arthur crashed their lips together.  John eased, those flames from their petty feud of misunderstandings were extinguished.  Times like this the gunslinger appreciated his simpler mindset, doing whatever he could to shut the cowboy up before he remarked something he would later regret.  It wasn't exactly genuine, but they set themselves up so it was time to assume responsibility.    
  
  
  
  
John managed to clumsily climb into Arthur's lap. Their fevered kiss knocked the gunslinger's hat off as the pair of lithe arms wrapped themselves around the elder's neck, fingers tangling themselves in dusty dun-colored hair. Fingerless gloved hands sought their way around the younger man's thin waist. Arthur tried pushing away the thoughts that plagued his mind. He envied John's selfish habits, seizing what he wanted when he wanted thoughtlessly. Not stopping to consider the consequences but to enjoy the present satisfaction. His mentality of why dwell on the inevitable when you could live right here, right now? John pulled away, pressing his forehead against the outlaws as he panted lightly to catch his breath. 

 

 **"** If you're the Arthur Morgan I know, you ain't goin' down that easy. **"**

 

The outlaw smirked, sage green eyes fluttering open to gaze at the blue pair looking back. He couldn't help but admire the young cowboys since of confidence, even hope that the elder would pull through like it was a stagecoach robbery. If only it were that easy to overturn. For now, however, Arthur didn't have the heart to tell John the truth. The stories he heard, he had the symptoms— had the doctors words to drop the dead weighted term. Right now he wanted to remember those eyes, those eyes promising it would be okay despite the reality to their situation— to Arthurs. 

 

 **"** Sure. **"**

 

John smiled warmly, eyes closing a moment to take in the serene intimacy. It had been so long since he could feel every muscle in his body relax, his mind at peace. He only truly felt at ease with Arthur. It didn't matter if it was in the heat of a gunfight or in the delicate intimacy they shared in secrecy. As long as the gunslinger was there, John felt steady. 

 

 **"** Hey. **"**

 

The cowboys' eyes fluttered open, having gotten lost within his thoughts.  

 

 **"** Hey, Sunshine. **"**

 

That rare yet genuine smile appeared that made his heart feel like it had stopped. Bemused, Arthur chuckled as his grip tightened around his waist. He didn't want to leave this moment, but goosebumps rose with the hair on his arms. 

 

 **"** You still haven't thanked me yet. **"**

 

 **"** For what? **"**   

 

 **"** Now I know since your overextended bedrest over your scratches, you think you are above us lowlives and all princess— **"**  

 

 **"** Arthur, what in the hell are you going on about? **"**  

 

 **"** Those goddamn pelts refurbishing your tent, you dumbass! **"**  

 

 **"** Shit, my tents been upgraded? I ain't been around— out with Charles and his bison. When did this happen? **"**

 

Arthur started laughing his poker-face losing all composure to Johns sudden apologetic face.

 

 **"** Just this evening. **"**

 

John looked at him deadpanned before unwinding his arms to give the outlaw a rough shove.

 

 **"** No time like the present to check it out then huh? that with Grimshaw decidin' to have your sleeping accommodations all out in the open again. **"**  

 

Arthur raised a brow to what John was offering. The cowboy shrugged only to add playfully,

 

 **"** I know you ain't going to let the girls near you when that cough gets rough. Consider it practice for when I have to play doctor. **"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut or fluff? who knows what's gonna happen next~


	5. I would sell my soul for a bit more time

**"** Now, are you sure this is alright **?"** ****

  
The outlaw ducked into the large tent, flask in hand.  John made himself comfortable on the bedrolls, a hand stroking the sleek charcoal colored pelts beneath it.  Arthur always possessed a sharp eye and could hunt anything in his sights.  John was adequate, to say the least, but nothing in comparison to the gunslinger.   
  
**"** Uh yeah, course.  Why not **?** **"**     
  
He heard a violent rupture of coughing and gazed up from the boar hides to see Arthur joining him.  Te outlaw promptly collapsed onto the bedroll next to him.  John's heart constricted a second time, seeing the man before him gradually begin to wilt.  No matter how many times John declared fiercely to himself, _Arthur would pull through he always does_;  his doubts couldn't help but speak in hushed tones in his ear.

Arthur lay on his back looking up at John, who sat crisscrossed.

  
**"** You know, with you and Abigail and all, seem on again.  And Jack has been here, right **?** ** " **

  
  
A colorless smile pulled at John's rugged features, Arthur's wishes ringing in his head.  Reaching over he carefully brushed a few strands of golden brown that had fallen gracefully in the elders face.  Despite his own desolate state, Arthur was still looking out for him-  _for everyone_.

  
  
**"** We're Fine, Arthur.  What with Trelawney and Strauss and shit, Molly;  the ladies have decided to huddle amongst themselves since Dutch ain't for safety no more I guess.  And well Jack, he needs them. ** " **

 

A hum was voiced in response before another stifled rupture of terrible coughs.  His chest desperately needed more leverage.   
  
**"** Come on, Sunshine before you wake up the whole camp **"** John soothingly cooed before helping Arthur sit up enough so the cowboy could slide over, naturally taking place of where his head lie on the spare roll.  Snatching a rolled up blanket, he placed it in his lap before nudging Arthur to lay back down.   
  
The elder was hesitant at initially but gave in once the back of his head rested in the comfort of his companion's lap.   
  
**"** John.. **."**   
  
**"** Arthur, just let me do this.  Just this once please, **"**  John snapped in a hushed tone.  His gentle arms wrapped around the other man's head to rest his hands on top of Arthurs' chest.  Unbundling the bandana and popping a few buttons loose at the shirt collar t he vocal wheezing subsided.

 

**"Please..."**


End file.
